Salvage
by pretense
Summary: Lt.Jeagerjaquez took up law enforcement just so he could legally carry around a gun and shoot people without getting jailed. So what's he supposed to do when he lands himself with a not-quite-damsel in a big, big mess? GxU. On Permanent Hiatus, Sorry
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Salvage

**Pair: **Grimmjow/Ulquiorra

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez took up law enforcement just so he could legally carry around a gun. He wasn't into the whole 'justice' shit, he just wanted to shoot people and live a life of action. So what's he supposed to do when he lands himself with a not-quite-damsel in a big, big mess? GrimmUlqui.

**Disclaimer: **Kubo Tite owns the characters, I own the story but know that I am not making any profit off of this.

**X - Police Line - Cross at own risk - X**

The deep blue velvet of the sky hung over the lull of the cityscape. Cricket chirps serenade the gleaming full moon as it outshined the thousand dots of glitter that share its space in the sky. Throbbing music and blinding neon lights keep a particular street awake, bathing the various figures walking about with streaks of bright pink and yellow. But that place is far from here…

Here, the whole subdivision is asleep - curtains drawn against the windows, gates padlocked and doors bolted tight. Here, a patrol car rounds the streets once per hour, checking – double checking – triple checking that no harm befalls the slumbering residents. Here, two figures lay low inside a black sedan as the night watch vehicle rolls by. It was two in the morning.

When the beam of yellow light passed and the murmur of the motor vehicle ebbed away as it turned the corner, the two accomplices sat up straighter.

"Ya sure that's the right house?" asks the one in front, narrowed eyes peering over at the lot across the street from where they were parked.

"Our guys have been watching the same man going in and out of that house regularly for the past two months – always at the times of seven am, one pm and eight pm. Deviations only occur – and regularly, too – on Saturdays when Mr. R," he gave his partner a meaningful look, "joins the proxy guy when he comes in the morning. The proxy leaves soon and comes back only at eight pm to pick up Mr. R. Same routine every single week."

"That doesn't mean that's where the stinking bastard keeps his money!" hissed the first man.

"I'm pretty sure that Mr. R keeps most of his assets in the bank but the fact that he keeps sending that proxy here every day and that he himself frequents the house every Saturday could only mean that something important must be in that house!"

A frown spreads on the man's lips as he gives the house another glare.

"We should get going before the patrol comes around again," his partner whispers urgently, pulling on a black ski mask.

"Ch, fine."

Not a minute later, two black-clad figures were making their way towards Lot 59. They both had lanky frames and in no time at all had climbed over the black grilled gate into the front lawn. The house on Lot 59 was a small bungalow with a brown roof and tan painting, a small front garden was first to greet its visitors – or in this case, intruders. The two men quickly walked up towards the door, turning the knob and sticking in a pin. An owl hooted above their heads and the smaller of the two jumped, almost loosing his grip on the pin.

"Hurry up!" his taller partner whispered agitatedly; looking around the streets making sure that no one was out to play witness.

Finally, the lock 'clicked' and the cream-white door opened for them – revealing a jet-black interior. The two robbers slipped inside and closed the door behind them, pulling out identical flashlights from the knapsack that the taller man had been wearing on his back. Bright orange spots were dragged around the room, exposing chairs, rugs, flower vases and porcelain figures on a coffee table, stereos and a flat-screen TV – they were in a sitting room.

The shorter man picked up a porcelain stallion figure, peering at it from under the light of the flashlight. "Think this'll be worth something?" he asks his companion who had gone on further and was looking around the kitchen area just a divider away.

"If it looks classy, bring it here and I'll put it in the bag," came the other man's distracted reply.

Shrugging, the first man picked up a matching mare figurine from the table and walked over to his partner who had just closed a cabinet under the sink.

"Would'ja believe this shit? Not a scrap of food anywhere!" he exclaimed, taking the porcelain figures from his partner and stashing them carefully inside the knapsack.

"Nothing good in the kitchen?" the shorter one asks as they move out of the kitchen towards a closed door that led them into a bedroom.

The curtains were drawn tightly, letting no sliver of moonlight pass and leaving the room in total darkness. The flashlights showed them a queen-sized bed with baby blue sheets with not a crease on it. The bedside table held a lamp and an empty photo frame. The robbers eyed each other with confusion – the whole place was decorated but it didn't seem like any one lived there. It didn't make sense because the proxy person that they've been monitoring always seemed to be visiting some_one_.

"Let's not waste anymore time," the taller man voiced out what both of them had been thinking and they quickly set about to looking for anything of value.

The smaller man opened a door at the far end of the room and entered a bathroom – complete with a showerhead, a toilet and a sink but no towels or toiletries were in sight. Most absurd, he thought to himself turning to leave when his partner's startled cry broke the heavy silence.

"Holy shit!" came a shout from the bedroom and the man in the bathroom scrambled out to see what was the matter.

"I thought it was clear that we should be quie – oh," the smaller man's beady eyes grew wide, his jaw dropping as he finds what his partner had been so surprised about. "Oh – fucking god!" he exclaimed, clapping a hand over his mouth, stopping himself before he could say any more curse words.

The taller partner hastily picked up his flashlight from the floor, shakily turning the bulb towards what he had assumed to be another room but turned out to be a storage closet.

"Jesus," he breathed agitatedly, the orange glow of the flashlight exposing what appeared to be a human being lying inside the closet. The top of the person's head faced them, an unruly mop of black. The boy – they assumed that it was one since there were no tell-tale signs of a breast, or maybe it was just too small to see – appeared to be in his teens. He was lying on his side, curled into a ball, legs pulled into his chest, and his exposed wrists tied together with a piece of rope.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit…" the man behind him muttered as the air around them suddenly felt colder.

"Whaddaya think should we do?" the taller one asked, goosebumps beginning to crawl up his skin.

"I – I don't know!" was his partner's hasty reply. "J-Just close the damn door and let's get outta here!"

Nodding, the lanky man shut the door and quickly followed the smaller man out of the house, over the gate and into their car.

"What the hell was that?" the smaller of the two hissed, pulling away his ski mask and shooting his partner a glare.

"I have no fuckin' idea, man!" the one in the driver's seat replied. "I – I just opened the door, thinkin' it was another fuckin' room but – but – well, fuck, you saw what was in there!"

The silence between them was filled with haggard breathing.

"D'you think it was still alive?" the taller man asked after two full minutes.

"Did'ya see it breathing?"

"I dunno, I was too scared to see properly, dumbass."

Another hoot resounded from above and the two men visibly shook in their seats.

"… What the hell do you think should we do?"

**********X - Police Line - Cross at own risk - X**

"Good morning, Cero City Police Department… Um, excuse me, could you repeat that? I didn't quite catch – Oh! O-Okay… Um, the place… Subdivision, Lot 59… Bedroom? N-Naked? Oh dear lord, um, hold on," a pen furiously scribbled on a blank sheet of paper. "W-When did – just now? Okay, just sit tight sirs, we'll send our people right over – Oi – hey, wait, don't-!"

"He hung up!" A blonde woman huffed as she put the phone down.

"What's up?"

Apple green eyes gaze up to find a man with shocking electric-blue hair frowning down at her. She jumps up from her seat, "L-Lieutenant! I – Well, there was a call just now reporting a, um, two men who – well, they found a body stuffed inside a closet down at Gran Rey Subdivision. T-They weren't sure if the person was still alive or not but it's only been fifteen minutes since they saw the–!"

"Officer!" the lieutenant barked, raising a hand as to silence the girl. It was nearly three in the morning and he wasn't particularly interested in the newbie's indiscernible stuttering. "Lemme see that." He opened his palm and the blonde hastily shoved the piece of paper towards her superior.

Striking eyes blue as sapphire quickly scanned the sheet of paper as the man's lips thinned into a line. "I'll take this up to the chief, you stay there and keep doing your job," was the man's dismissive statement as he strode past the reception desk.

Menoli slumped down to her seat at her superior's departure; she wiped away the cold sweat from her brow, pushing away her bangs in the process. Damn this was a stressful job. To think she was already garnering a heart attack just from hearing that some guys found a body in some closet.

"Yo, Grimm, I'm gonna go out to buy the guys food, anything you want?" a tanned man with long golden hair asked right as the lieutenant walked into the office.

"Fuck that, we've got some serious work to do," the sapphire-eyed officer replied hastily, slapping away the hand that landed on his shoulder in greeting.

"Seriously?" the thought of work piqued the blonde man's interest and he quickly turned around to follow the electric-blue haired man into the chief's office.

Chimes tinkled as the glass door was abruptly pulled back and the two officers let themselves into the Police Chief's room.

A man of thirty sat behind a glass-topped wooden desk, his wavy dark brown hair was parted in the middle and they framed the weary expression on his face. He had one hand scratching at the goatee on his chin while the other was moving around the mouse on his computer when the two men suddenly barged into his room. "Whoa, what's with the sudden-!"

The lieutenant promptly slammed the piece of paper on the table in front of the Chief. "Emergency situation, boss."

The police chief picked up the bond paper with both hands and quickly skimmed over the receptionist's letters.

"Hey, what's up, you never told me why you were so agitated, Grimm," the blonde man from before asked again, moving to stand beside the lieutenant in front of their chief.

The chief's weary gaze hardens as he nears the end of the note, his steely gray eyes meeting the hard gaze of twin sapphire orbs. He pulls open a drawer and fishes out a clean wad of documents. He quickly fills up the first sheet, tears the paper and hands it over to the waiting lieutenant.

"We'll need to get there A.S.A.P. Jeagerjaquez, you found this case – grab the men you'll need and head there straight away."

"Got it," the lieutenant nods, taking back the paper and stuffing it into the pocket of his pants. "You're going with me, Forte," he grabs the tanned man by the elbow as he walks out of the room.

"He-Hey, let go, Grimm, I can walk by myself! And for the last time it's _Yylfordt_, not just 'Forte'," blonde Yylfordt yanks his arm away and proceeds to walk side by side with the lieutenant.

"What's going on?" a strict female tone asks as the agitated lieutenant makes a beeline for the front door, almost colliding with the emerald-eyed woman who was going in.

"Sorry, ma'am," the lieutenant promptly apologizes and moves to the side, letting the deputy chief enter the office. "I've got a situation."

"It's just you two?" the deputy chief asks with a raised brow as she eyes the lieutenant and the sergeant who, by now, were on the other side of the door.

"I don't think it'll be too troublesome to need a battalion," was the reply before the sapphire-eyed man was out of the headquarters and heading towards the parking lot.

Yylfordt quickly apologized, "He's just excited, ma'am, ain't gotten an assignment for a week now, the poor guy." He gave the woman a salute, "I'd better get going or else Grimm's gonna leave without me! Later!"

With that, the sergeant raced out the door, just in time as the sound of a revving engine came from the parking lot.

Emerald eyes watched as a police car zoomed into the streets. Shaking her head, the dark-skinned officer headed inside with a bag of groceries dangling from her left hand because some stupid police chief happen to forget getting their dinner like normal people.

**********X - Police Line - Cross at own risk - X**

"Gran Rey Subdivision, huh?" Yylfordt reads from the paper that the receptionist had written out; the car was halted as the stoplight had just turned red and the streetlamp outside gave him enough light to read the scribble. "Ain't that the high-class place uptown where all those filthy-rich bastards live?"

"Think so," came the clipped reply from the driver's seat. The man hand both gloved hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as his bright blue eyes were trained on the unchanging stoplight ahead.

"Oh come on, Grimm, relax a bit," the tanned blonde said airily as he reached out a hand and patted his superior on the shoulder. "Stop being so antsy, bro. That kid's probably not gonna die in the twenty minutes that it'll take us to get there."

"What makes you think I'm getting worked up over the kid?" the lieutenant asks, eyeing his partner quizzically.

Yylfordt raised both hands, palms up, shrugging. "Who knows?" was his joking response. "I haven't seen you this tense since you were chosen to go undercover for that prostitution business a year ago."

"Ch, that must've been your imagination, then, coz I do _not_ get fucking 'tensed' over anything," the driver replied as their car moved in time with the changing stoplight.

"Really?"

"If you must know I just needed to haul my ass out of the HQ. I am sick and tired of writing out stupid reports; you know howI am, Forte. I don't like being cooped up in the office for too long, it's just so fucking dull. Makes my hand itch to shoot someone."

Eyes the shade of chocolate brown gleam to match the smile on the sergeant's lips as the man looks over at his superior with admiration.

No nonsense. That was the first thing that people learn about the lieutenant. Narrowed eyes of a stormy blue shade and lips twisted in a small frown was the man's default expression. The lieutenant was best known for never having backed down from any operation – actually, he was always the first to sign-up for them. He was fierce and headstrong – certainly a great asset to their division where no week would be complete without someone getting killed around the city. He was supposedly the best in his class; anyone who had seen him in combat would certainly attest to that. Hawk-eyed and a sharpshooter to boot, the man on the driver's seat was one officer who was both feared and held in high esteem.

Only five years in office, this man had quickly climbed his way up the ranks - 24 year-old, Lieutenant Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.

**- Chapter one, over and out! -**

**A/N:** Heya~ :D First of all, I have NEVER attempted to rob a house before (nor do I advise it to anyone) so please do not take the first part seriously… it was down-right too easy and those guys won't even show up again anyway. Secondly, I have never entered a police headquarters before, hance, everything mentioned above is make-believe – I do hope that it sounds plausible. Therefore, if there happens to be any discrepancy or if anyone has suggestions as to how to make the HQ more realistic, please do leave me a comment or a note about it. :D

Police rankings gave me hell in this… T 3 T It's like every country has a different hierarchy! Anyway, I trusted Wikipedia and went along with the US police rankings. It's not my country so I do apologize if it's inconsistent or anything. Again, feel free to correct me!

I admit that I am pretty insecure about this since I feel that I'm losing my touch in writing being away from the document pages for so long. I did enjoy having those page breakers, though, haha. Comments and critiques are most welcome! :) Also… I was supposed to put this up, like, a month ago… but I never got around doing that since, well, I was very much distracted. – 3 –

Is there anyone here who has heard of the **Raske Menn** before? They're a phenomenal Norwegian trio of comedians that made me realize I actually AM a WOMAN. They are made of awesome – they have the looks, the humor, the voice, everything! I love them to bits and if it wasn't for Bleach's 23rd ending theme (which my great friend introduced to me in hopes that I would gain my sanity back) I would've completely dropped this project… It was a pretty smashing ending with the Arrancars all human. ;) Seeing them in human clothes have quite a pull on my heart, huh? But–

_For rundt tre og hav fra fluffy ska du f en egen internet site. Mske you are lucky, lucky like a pig har vi no som passer for dige~_

Gah! RaskeMenn-RaskeMenn-RaskeMenn-RaskeMenn… -intenseblushinglikeyou'veneverseenbefore-

(I'm sorry but am I annoying anyone with my ridiculously long author's notes? Does anyone even read them. :P)


	2. Chapter 2

_Previously on Salvage: Two hooligans attempt a robbery and find more than what they ever expected. The Cero City Police Department receives a distress call and Lt. Jeagerjaquez is quick to take up the case with Sgt. Granz. The two-man team quickly moves out and heads towards the scene of the crime, Gran Rey Subdivision…_

**X – Police Line – Cross at own risk - X**

The subdivision's gatekeepers easily let the police car pass. It didn't take a lot of convincing once Grimmjow shoved the search warrant in their faces. The guards gave them the directions on how to get to Lot 59 and in no time at all Grimmjow reached Oscura Lane. Everything would have been pitch black if not for the lampposts standing tall and bright every two meters along the sidewalks flanking both sides of the street. The police car pulled up in front of Lot 59 and the officers exited without another word.

Pairs of blue and brown eyes quickly take in their surroundings. Not a house was lit up and there were only two other vehicles in the street aside from their own. There was no other soul in sight despite their hope that some guys would pop out of the shadows and claim to be the ones who made the call.

Yylfordt let out a whistle. "Well now, looks like our callers deserted us…" he places both hands on his hips, following the lieutenant who was walking up to the black grilled gate. "You don't think it was just a prank call, do ya bro?"

"I'll fucking trace down those assholes and shoot them dead if it was just a fucking prank call," Grimmjow muttered darkly, inspecting the padlock that secured the gate. "After we check the inside of the house, at least… I'd be damned if I go back to Boss empty-handed."

The blonde sergeant shrugged his shoulders and reached into the pocket of his pants. "You'll go nowhere just staring at the lock like that Grimm, let the expert handle the situation," Yylfordt said with a smile, waving around a small hairpin in his right hand. Grimmjow shot him a deadpan look but stepped back nonetheless.

After a few minutes of tinkering, Yylfordt stood up with a smug expression – holding the hairpin in one hand and the open padlock in the other. "Pretty neat, huh?"

"If this wasn't part of the job, you'd be sued right now," Grimmjow allows himself to smirk as he pushes open the gate and steps inside.

Yylfordt chuckles as he pocketed both items and follows after his superior.

"Hey Forte, look at this," Grimmjow calls for the sergeant, pushing open the front door with ease. "Fucking door's wide open."

The blonde officer grabbed his superior by the elbow, stopping the man from entering. "Whoa, Grimm, don't just step inside!" He pulls the lieutenant backwards. "What if those guys who called are actually inside waiting to ambush us?"

The deadpan look resurfaced on Grimmjow's face and he pulled his arm away from Yylfordt's grip. "Forte, I've been in this job for five years. And you know what? If I get paranoid of my safety every single time I'm out then I won't get anywhere, so shut your trap and let's go in."

Yylfordt breathed out crossly but followed the man in anyway, laying his right hand on the gun holster on his hip just in case he needed to draw it out quickly some time soon. Just as he stepped over the threshold, blinding white light filled the room. Startled from the change, the sergeant clapped his hand over his eyes and hissed. "Fuck." Peering from under the shade of his left hand, Yylfordt located Grimmjow standing beside the light switch. "Why did you open the light?" the blonde officer hissed, lowering his hand as his eyes got used to the light.

"It was dark, couldn't see a damn thing," Grimmjow replied offhandedly, azure irises already scanning the area. He briskly walked over to the kitchen area and started opening the cupboards one by one. Yylfordt doesn't take long in getting the gist of his superior's actions and he starts looking around himself – behind the sofa, under the sofa, and every other furniture in sight to no avail.

"Nothing?" Grimmjow asks, returning from the kitchen empty-handed. "Then it really must be the bedroom then…"

Yylfordt nods as Grimmjow twists the doorknob and opens the door just a step away from the kitchen area. Bright light from the living room and kitchen enter the shadowed room until Grimmjow once again decided to flick up the light switch, thus bathing the bedroom with white artificial light. Grimmjow meets with the sergeant's eyes; Yylfordt gives a small 'Hm' as he surveys the room they have just entered.

"Fuck this is getting predictable," Grimmjow mutters, making a beeline for the closet with the sergeant at his heels. Twisting the doorknob, he pulls the door open. "It's either there is a dead body here or those little shitbags duped us… And it better be the former or else-!"

"Holy…" Yylfordt found the word slipping from his gaping mouth as a pair of bright green eyes peered up at them from within the dark confines of the closet.

**X – Police Line – Cross at own risk - X**

It was cold. Cold and dark and if he hadn't woken up to this kind of environment before, the teenager would've started screaming. But he _had_ opened his eyes to this pitch-black sorry excuse for a closet before; he'd been practically residing there for a good three months. Or maybe more – he had stopped taking count after the first twenty days. Still, that doesn't mean that he liked it. He wanted nothing more than to get out and be free again but he knew that chances of that were slim. So he had resigned himself to just go on existing, he wasn't left there to die after all… That piece of trash regularly sent his maniac of an assistant to him every day, bringing food – and more, but he refused to dwell on the pig's disgusting acts.

This night was nothing out of the ordinary – the whole day, actually, was just as boring as ever. The only thing worth remembering was that the bastard's assistant didn't use him today and he wasn't complaining about it. The sun set, the moon rose and he was gagged, had his hands and feet tied up and chucked back into this hellhole.

The thing is, he was a light sleeper and even the smallest sound of footsteps on carpet was enough to wake him. These past weeks he had learnt to hold that trait of his at a high esteem especially since it served to alarm him of when the pig was around. So that night – and he assumed that it was still night since it certainly didn't feel as though the sun was up yet – when he heard the sound of feet walking around, his brain had started to call on the rest of his body to wake up. He heard the door of the bedroom open and footsteps moving closer, sounding directly outside the closet. Forest green eyes slowly slid open, his ears straining to hear what could be happening outside. There were at least two pairs of feet walking around.

Maybe he was wrong then… maybe it was morning and the pig had already arrived with his ste – he caught himself. With that trash, his mind hissed vehemently. But before he could pursue that train of thought, the closet door opened and he froze finding a circle of orange light falling onto his curled figure.

"Holy shit!" a male voice shouted above him and the light disappeared abruptly, accompanied with the sound of metal hitting the carpet. His eyes widened like saucers and his breath fell short - he did not recognize that voice.

A second pair of feet ambled over, whispering agitatedly. "I thought it was clear that we should be quie – oh." The second voice, another man, stopped and he couldn't be bothered to wonder why. "Oh – fucking god!"

The light – he thought it'd be safe to assume it came from flashlight – turned towards him once again. It went up and down his form and he strained to keep still.

Who were these people? Did they have anything to do with - no that was impossible, these two didn't even seem to know that he was there in the first place; they didn't expect him. So who were they? More over, what were they doing here?

"Jesus," came an agitated breath above him and he could feel two pairs of eyes staring at his bare figure.

Extreme unease had started to crawl up his spine, he never liked being exposed but being tied up as he was he almost wanted to cry at his helpless disposition. The intruders, however, didn't seem to notice that he was awake and went on with their conversation.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit…"

"Whaddaya think should we do?"

"I – I don't know! J-Just close the damn door and let's get outta here!"

With that, the light disappeared and the door slammed shut, the sound of running feet had completely left his range of hearing in no time at all.

A shuddering breath passed out his nostrils and he screwed his eyes tightly. Realization dawning, albeit a few seconds too late, that he had just let slip a chance for escape.

_'Damn…'_

His bright green eyes stared at the darkness once more, contemplating if maybe he could call out to the men and plead for help… But that was really nothing but his desperate thoughts taking over his mind. As if those men could hear him now, they had probably run far, far away, vowing to forget ever having seen him there. He wouldn't be surprised.

Sighing, his pale lips brushed against the black handkerchief covering his mouth. The green-eyed teen cleared his mind, attempting to go back to sleep and simply forget about the previous incident. It wouldn't do him any good, keeping his hopes up over such a trifle encounter.

His internal clock ticked… one minute… two minutes… five… ten… twenty-five minutes…

He curled himself into a tighter ball. It really was cold – not to mention rather creepy – inside that closet. He raised his tied hands and placed them under his right cheek, serving as a poor makeshift pillow as his knees remained pulled up against his chest. Twin green eyes were bright in spite of the shadows. He couldn't go back to sleep. Not really. Not when thoughts of escape had resurfaced in his mind once again after being subdued for so long.

Completely wide awake, the gagged teen snapped his head up as the sound of a door opening registered, accompanied with slight vibrations on the floor as footsteps resounded nearby. Muffled conversation was heard in spite of the panel of wood separating him from whoever it was.

Mixed feelings began to bubble up inside his chest. Anxiety topping everything else as white light seeped into the dark closet through the small gap between the door and the carpeted floor.

Could those be the men earlier? He wonders. He didn't see why they would come back when they'd so hurriedly run off. Or why they would open the light when it seemed that they were so keen on keeping in the dark before. In any case, he was at least sure that it couldn't be the pig. It was still night time; he remembered that it was also dark outside when his first intruders opened the closet. Whoever it was, though, the teenager sincerely hoped that they were there to take him out of his prison.

As the closet door creaks open, a gruff, male voice reaches his ears.

"It's either there is a dead body here or those little shitbags duped us…"

The crack on the edge of the door widens, allowing a most blinding ray of light to pour into his shadowy prison. He could not properly see who it was but judging by the voice, this group of men was different from the ones before.

"And it better be the former or else-!"

The teenager squints his eyes in order to still see as a full blast of light hits him in the face when the door is fully opened. Two tall figures loom in the doorframe, their shadows falling over his curled up form as he stares up – eyes wide in wonder.

"Holy…" A man with long blonde hair whispers. With the light coming from behind these men it was pretty hard trying to see what expression they wore, the most he could get from his angle on the ground was that they wore identical black uniforms of sorts. The blonde's companion, a taller man with spiky hair in a surprising color of bright blue, appears to do nothing but observe. The teen flicked his gaze onto this second man – realizing that he was closer – finding azure eyes staring down at him.

And he finds his thoughts running wild. Who were these people? Could they be connected with the ones who came here earlier? What were they doing here? How did they even find him?

The floorboard creaked as the blue-eyed man stepped forward.

His thoughts halt, his breath hitches and his bright green irises lock onto the approaching figure.

_'Who are you?'_

**X – Police Line – Cross at own risk - X**

Grimmjow stops as he sees the tied-up man tense. It was obvious that the guy would be wary of him, and everyone else for that matter, suddenly barging in as they did. But he didn't have the whole fucking day to warm up to this poor shit so after a few seconds with no signs of aggression from the guy, he proceeds inside.

Green eyes follow him as he kneels beside the bare form lying on its right side which instinctively curls tighter into itself. It was a guy, he realizes once he was nearer, seeing as the man on the floor didn't seem to bother covering his chest but was rather focused on keeping his lower regions in shadow. With Yylfordt keeping the door open, the bright bedroom light revealed ebony black hair as well as a very pale complexion occasionally marred with minimal cuts and bruises.

"We're gonna take you out of here, okay?" Grimmjow says almost automatically as the teenager twitches away. His eyes spot the black handkerchief tied around the teen's mouth and he carefully reaches out to untie it. Forest green eyes stare at his hands with the greatest mistrust as his fingers accidentally brush away strands of dark hair. "I ain't gonna hurt you, god damn it, stop looking at me like I'm a fucking murderer." Grimmjow mutters, feeling rather awkward at the intense staring. Making quick work of the handkerchief, the lieutenant pulled the cloth away and threw it behind him; he could feel the green-eyed teen start breathing again.

The dark-haired man licks his lips, wearing an expression of uncertainty on his now fully visible face.

The lieutenant picks out a switchblade from his pocket and releases the blade, the fear the creeps into the pale teen's eyes is almost pitiful. Grimmjow barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes, "I already told you, didn't I? Just trust me on this and we'll get you out in no time."

With a barely-there nod from the teen, Grimmjow lifted the victim's bound hands in his left hand. Cautiously angling the blade, the blue-eyed lieutenant severed the rope, taking care not to use too much pressure with the teen's wrist being so close. The pale hands didn't move an inch the whole while that he was working against the rope and they fell limply on the floor once police officer had let go of the appendage. Grimmjow raised a brow at the teenager.

Seemingly abashed, the teenager pulled his hands closer, absentmindedly rubbing the rope marks on his wrists.

Satisfied, Grimmjow shifted towards the feet which he wasn't surprised to find tied up as well. Laying his left hand against the left ankle, the officer didn't take long in cutting away the considerably looser cords. He pocketed his switchblade and stood up, he was about to tell the teen to get up so they could go when the cold, hard fact hit him straight in the face. The fucking guy was stark naked.

Grimmjow was so close to face-palming. He looked over at the sergeant, only to find that Yylfordt was wearing a not-so-subtle smirk, wearing a look that very plainly said: 'So-what's-the-plan-now-bro?'

Grimmjow glared at him. Fucking bastard.

The teenager has yet to move, still in his fetal position, most likely pondering the same question that was ringing in both officers' minds.

The lieutenant looked around, he was already in the stinking closet, there was bound to be something to wear in here… A quick search of the area, however, easily proved him wrong.

"Ah, to hell with it." Grimmjow cursed, and without another glance at the other two, he undid the buttons of his uniform top. He pointedly ignored Yylfordt's half-suppressed snickers as he pulled the long-sleeved shirt off his shoulders, leaving him with his sleeveless undershirt. Turning his eyes back to the teenager on the floor, who seemed to prefer staring at his fingernails at the moment, the lieutenant dropped the black shirt over the pale figure and calmly walked over to the closet door.

"We don't exactly have clothes for you right now so you'd have to make-do with that," Grimmjow said, pushing Yylfordt away into the bedroom and pulling at the closet door but leaving it slightly ajar to allow a bit of light inside. "We'll just be outside."

Twin green irises shone under the shadows of the closet. Slowly, the dark-haired teen sat up, letting the policeman's uniform fall to his lap. Slender hands held up the shirt as he scrutinized the cloth, it appeared to be made of a light material but, as he palmed the fabric, he found that it wasn't as thin as he'd first thought.

It was a black shirt with a shield-shaped patch was on both sleeves and a nameplate sewn on the left breast pocket. Even under the dim lighting, forest green eyes found it still possible to read the name on the uniform – 'G. Jeagerjaquez'.

Despite his uncertainties, the ebony-haired teen slipped his frail arm into the policeman's uniform, finding it rather large for him as its end reached the middle of his thigh – not that that wasn't a bad thing right now, really. With only the tips of his fingers exposed by the lengthy sleeves, he started buttoning up the shirt.

**X – Police Line – Cross at own risk - X**

"– you sure about that Grimm – Oh, you're out…" The blonde officer's question is cut short with the creaking sound of the closet door being pushed open.

Mocha and azure eyes turn towards the emerging figure – the ebony-haired teen looking even paler and thinner than before with the over-sized police uniform now covering his form.

A slender hand firmly rests against the door frame as the young man takes his first steps out from his confinement. Thick black lashes curtain twin glassy green eyes as they adjusted to the fluorescent light, eventually landing on the two officers staring right back at him from the other end of side of the bedroom.

The electric-blue haired officer, the one left in his undershirt, meets his gaze and his footsteps come to a halt. Lips drawn to a thin line, the lieutenant gave a curt nod in the teen's direction as his companion held open the bedroom door.

"You can walk by yourself, yeah? Then come on," Grimmjow said shortly, motioning for the ebony-haired teen to follow after him as he steps out.

The pale teen nods, briskly following the lieutenant with his hands clasped together in front of him.

"Smile a little, why don't you? You're safe now, bro," the tanned officer says with a grin as the teen passes by.

A heart-shaped face turns towards the man, green eyes finding the name patch on the sergeant's uniform and the boy's steps slow.

'_Y. Granz'_

…Granz… Granz… he knows that name… A wave of icy cold began to spread across his chest. He'd met a Granz before, the guy was an associate of his stepfather… Granz wasn't a very common last name around here, either. His palms sweat, clutching the ends of the over-sized sleeves tighter. What if… What if…

"Man what a bore this assignment turned out to be…"

The indolent exclamation startles the rescued teen, snapping his gaze back to the owner of the clothes he wore, finding the blue-eyed officer already marching out of the front door.

Without a second thought, the barefoot teen ran across the sitting room in five great strides, frantic to catch up with the other police officer. He ignores the biting cold of the bumpy cobblestone path of the front yard in his haste, Jeagerjaquez was just about to go out the gate when he caught up – not in the most dignified way but at least he got there before his heart broke open his ribcage.

"Aw fuck, what the–!" Grimmjow turned around, surprised to find that it was the damsel – okay, well, _dude_-in distress that had hit him from behind. He set both hands on the smaller man's shoulder, "What the fuck's with the running, dude?" he asks with a raised brow he was met with wide green eyes and rapid breathing.

"Whoa, where did he-? Oh there you are," Yylfordt says, stepping out of the front door himself, leaving the house in shadows as it was before they came.

Hearing the other officer's approach, the pale teen ran to the lieutenant's side, grabbing the man at his left forearm with both hands.

Grimmjow's gaze moves from the teen at his side to the sergeant who had stopped six feet away with a confused look. "What the hell did you do, Forte?" he asks irately.

"I didn't do anything!" Yylfordt defended himself, planting his hands on his hips. "He just ran off all of a sudden!"

Looking down at the teen, Grimmjow detached his arm from the other's grip and settled his left hand on the pale one's shoulders. "Ah whatever… No reason to be scared of Forte over there, dude, unless you're secretly a chick with big jugs but seeing as you aren't you're safe, okay?"

The uneasy expression slips away from the porcelain face and the edge of his thin lips quirk up slightly and he nods.

"Good, now come on…"

**- Chapter two, over and out! -**

**A/N: **Haha, man this sounds like some TV show. x) I was thinking of putting some questions at the end like the good old 'What would happen next after this fateful encounter?' All those cheesy lines and stuff but I decided against that in the end… Haha, man that'd sound so weird especially with a cool, narrator voice saying it.

Back to the real world… Is there anyone else out there that finds Aizen's new look kinda creepy? When the Hougyoku's chrysalis stage ends and Aizen comes out with the blackened-sclera and long hair… -shivers- The longer hair creeps me out more, to be honest… (– 3 –)


	3. Chapter 3

_Previously on Salvage: Lt. Jeagerjaquez and Sgt. Granz arrive at Gran Rey Subdivision, finding the victim – a teenage boy with the widest forest green eyes that either of them had seen - without much incident. It was suspiciously all too easy…_

**X – Police Line – Cross at own risk - X**

"You still alive back there?" Grimmjow asks, looking at their 'passenger's reflection in rearview mirror.

The dark-haired teen nods mutely, his small frame looking even tinier surrounded by the officer's large shirt.

"You won't mind us having a little stopover before we hand you over to the Social Service Center downtown, yeah?" Grimmjow continues, reverting his eyes back to the road.

There is only silence from behind them and after letting it go on for a full minute – assuming that the guy must've been thinking – Grimmjow finally looked up at the mirror to see what happened to the rescued teen. Said teen was only staring back at him with a fear-stricken expression.

"Oi, what's with that look? Say something, I can't keep glancing over at ya while I'm driving…" Grimmjow says focusing his eyes on the road.

When there was still no reply from the teen, Grimmjow – after conveniently halting the police car at a red stoplight – turned towards the back seat, wearing a frown on him. "Why aren't you speaking? You mute or something?"

The green-eyed teen stared at him for long seconds before shaking his head agitatedly, and in the next moment, the officer finds pale teen's face leveled with his own, slender fingers gripping the screen that separated the front seats from the back. A fearful look was displayed on the porcelain face as the dark-haired teen repeatedly shook his head in the negative.

"What's your problem?" Grimmjow asks, getting annoyed now. "Say something, damn it… What's the 'no' for?"

The expression on the heart-shaped face remained anxious as forest green eyes pointedly looked between the lieutenant and the passenger's seat.

"What… Forte?" Grimmjow asks, taking a quick glance at the sergeant who now had his arms crossed over his chest. "He won't do anything to ya, dude… Forte's a nice – well, he ain't the nicest guy on the planet but he ain't a bad guy…"

"Wow, thanks for the compliment," the blonde man muttered dryly.

"Heh," a grin grew on the lieutenant's face as he turned back towards the guy on the backseat. "So it's cool, yeah?" When the green-eyed teen finally nodded (never mind that it was done mechanically), Grimmjow righted himself and proceeded to drive.

"Okay, now sit back kid," Grimmjow said before stepping on the pedal. "We'll just be taking a quick stop at my apartment… Can't go around with just my undershirt, you know… It'll be quick, I swear, and the center is just two blocks away from the apartment anyway…"

It was still only a few minutes past four, but the city was already beginning to wake up. The black and white police car zoomed through the streets carrying a wide-eyed and huddled up passenger. Lips pursed, the teen looks around nervously when the car finally stops.

They were parked by the curb outside a grey, three-story building; a staircase on both ends of the structure led up to the rooftop. There were about five doors on each level, each with a number and a matching metal plate below it; a three-foot concrete divider ran front of every floor for safety reasons. Grimmjow left the engine running as he exited the vehicle and ran up to the infrastructure. The muscular officer took the stairs on the left-hand side, running up to the second floor and entering the first door there.

Back in the police vehicle, the teenage victim was staring down at his clasped hands.

"Hey, you there in the back."

Green eyes snapped up to find Sgt. Granz' tanned face turned towards him, soft mocha-hued eyes gazing at him contemplatively.

"Why don't you speak up, bro?" Yylfordt asked, watching as the teenager leaned further back into his seat, the tighter clasp of the boy's hands didn't go by undetected either. It was no surprise when he wasn't given a reply. Sighing, the blonde sergeant tried again. "Looking at you right now, it wouldn't take a genius to guess that you were probably abused back in that house. If you're not going to say anything then we won't have a chance of sending the culprits to jail… So you'd better think twice about keeping silent, understand?"

A surprised look crossed the pale face for a split second before it sharply turned towards the right at the sound of approaching footsteps. Grimmjow was back, now donning a black short-sleeved tight-fitting polo shirt bearing the same police crest on the left side of the chest area.

"Next stop, the Cero City SSC," the lieutenant announces as he straps in his seatbelt.

"Are we seriously gonna take this guy to the social service center, Grimm?" Yylfordt asks with a blonde brow raised. "Shouldn't we head for the hospital or something?"

"And have those sleazy bastards poke the kid around?" Grimmjow replied with a grimace. "Hell no… He's probably been molested enough as it is–" As the last syllable left his lips, the lieutenant caught himself and quickly glanced over at the 'kid' at the backseat. The past-shoulder length ebony hair hung in front of the teen's face as his head was bowed, his chin almost touching his chest. He seemed to be begging the seat to just swallow him up from the way that he had curled up into a ball once more.

"Oi, kid…" the azure-eyed officer called, an uneasy tone marring his voice. "What I meant was… uh, well… You just looked the part, alright…? Don't be–"

"Grimmjow."

Deep blue eyes turned towards the sergeant beside him, finding a rarely-seen look of gravity on the effeminate officer. It didn't help that Yylfordt had called him properly by his first name, either.

"If you disagree with taking him to the hospital, then fine. Let's just take him to the social center and let those people deal with him…" Sergeant Granz said. "Don't forget that we'd have to go back to Gran Rey subdivision for further investigation. The Chief would expect a report on this, too."

With a small heave of breath, Grimmjow spared the ebony-haired teen one last look before conceding with his partner's statement. "Yeah… Okay, Forte."

After a five-minute drive, the trio had arrived at the local Social Service Center. It was a two-story building covered in pale blue paint and even in the wee hours of the morning, the lights were still on and the front door was still open – ready to welcome anyone in need.

With the police car parked, Grimmjow and Yylfordt led the rescued teenager up the front steps. A beefy security guard gave them a salute and opened the door; eyes drawn to the oddly-clad petite figure huddled too closely at the lieutenant's side. The solemn look on the usually cheery sergeant's face didn't go by undetected either.

"Keep your eyes on the street, Liones!" the azure-eyed lieutenant barked as he made a beeline for the front desk where an auburn-haired woman had jumped up at their entrance. The lobby looked something akin to a hospital waiting room with plastic chairs lined up on both sides of the reception desk. There were two doors leading away from the room one of which was labeled 'Canteen'. One could guess that the other one led to the wards' area; the doctors' offices were probably in there as well. In spite of that, the foyer actually appeared welcoming with a pale blue scheme and landscape paintings on the walls, and the vase of flowers on the coffee table stocked with magazines in the midst of the plastic seats.

"Officers!" the beige-uniformed girl greets; her top consisted of a short-sleeved blouse with the institute's logo pinned on complimented on the bottom by dress pants of the same hue and white sneakers. "What happened?"

"Rescue mission," Grimmjow replied shortly, pausing in his steps when the woman went around the desk to meet them. "Can you take care of him?" He jerks his head towards the rescued male standing in his shadow.

"O-Of course," the receptionist answered promptly, wide ashen eyes unabashedly staring at the seemingly downcast figure beside the aqua-haired policeman. "But… What happened to him?" she asked out of sheer wonder, taking a tentative step forward, hand raised as to settle her hand on the teen's shoulder.

The dark-haired male abruptly steps back, inching further behind the lieutenant when he saw the social worker move towards him through his messy bangs. His half-hidden hands clutched the t-shirt's cuff-sleeves tighter, jade eyes trained on the shoes and shadows of the people around him.

"Well we're working to find that out soon enough, Miss...?" Yylfordt spoke, his tone indicative of asking for the worker's name.

"Ah, I'm Orihime Inoue…" the receptionist replied. "Please, just call me Orihime."

"Miss Inoue," Grimmjow promptly starts, dragging gray-hued irises towards himself. "We'll leave him in your care. He doesn't speak for some reason but do see to it that he gets clothe and fed properly until we come back for him. We've still got some investigating to do and he," he jerks his head towards the teen behind him for emphasis "being the victim of the situation, needs to be treated properly, do you understand?"

The ashen gray eyes were wide as Orihime's mind processed the information, this time caught in the hard gaze of an azure pair.

"Do you understand, Miss Inoue?" Grimmjow repeated after having the woman stare at him for five long (and uncomfortable) seconds.

"Y-Yes sir," Orihime affirmed, mentally keeping notes of the intimidating man's instructions.

"Good." With that, Grimmjow turned his back on the woman and faced the petite teen huddled in his shadow. "Hey… You're gonna go with the social worker for the time being, okay? When we find evidence in that house we can start looking for whoever did this to you and make them pay for it…"

Slowly, the heart-shaped face turned up, hidden behind a messy frame of ebony bangs, green eyes filled with apprehension. His fingers gripped the hem of the shirt, it served to help him keep his nerves in check. He flicked his eyes towards the receptionist who was staring at him from around the muscular officer's form; his frown widened.

"You can trust these Social Service people," Grimmjow added, placing a hand on the teen's right shoulder hoping to assure the clearly anxious kid.

The pale teen continued his silent pleading but as the lieutenant found that he had nothing more to say, the police officer turned towards the auburn-haired woman once again.

"Well, we've got to go," the aqua-haired man stated, finally pulling back his hand as he regarded the social worker. "If you have a shrink around here then try to get him to talk and if he says anything call us up at the police headquarters."

"Okay, um, who should I ask for, then, if I call up the police?" Orihime asks, eyeing the two officers.

"It's Lieutenant Jaegerjaquez," was Grimmjow's clipped reply.

"Sergeant Yylfordt Granz." The blonde officer replied more smoothly.

"Lieutenant Jeagerjaquez and Sergeant Granz," Orihime repeats with a more confident smile. "Thank you for bringing him here, I'll see to it that he gets treated properly." She adds the last part, setting her gaze upon the unspeaking teen who blatantly avoided meeting her eyes.

"Then it's settled," Yylfordt says, turning about and taking a couple of steps towards the front doors. "Let's go, Grimm."

"Oi, you…" Grimmjow addressed the rescued teen who has yet to move from his spot. "Go with the woman…" The wide-eyed stare that he received in return didn't exactly help his diminishing patience. "We aren't abandoning you here, alright? We'll come back when we find something that could further your case. So, uh…"

Yylfordt was already tapping his shoe on the floor and the curiosity displayed in the social worker's face only served to fuel the uncomfortable feeling burning his insides.

"Just…"

Damn this kid and his unyielding 'please-don't-leave-me' expression. And those eyes… those stupid, wide, distracting…

"Argh, for the love of-!" Grimmjow slapped his hand over his face and quickly turned about, stomping his way out of the front doors, yelling, "Come on, Forte!"

The brown-eyed officer merely raised a brow before following after his superior; exiting the area with comparatively more grace.

At the forefront of the Center, Grimmjow turned around to tell the sergeant to hurry it up but instead found his gaze lingering at the ebony-haired figure staring right at him from the lobby. A pale forearm was raised at chest level with fingers curled into an open palm that faced him as a sort of hesitant good-bye.

"Damn it…" Grimmjow cursed under his breath as he forcibly turned away and marched over towards his police vehicle.

Edrad Liones could only stare in confusion as Yylfordt daintily followed the seething lieutenant.

**X – Police Line – Cross at own risk - X**

A finger tapped his shoulder causing the pale teen to jump away, head snapping towards the source.

The social worker wore an apologetic look as she retracted her hand. "Do you have a name?" Orihime asks, putting up an encouraging smile. The only reply she got was – unsurprisingly – a wary stare. Undeterred, the social worker continued, "Oh that's right… I'm sorry, I forgot that you couldn't speak… I'll be your nurse, okay? Nurse Orihime, it's nice to meet you." She extended an open palm at the guy.

Forest green eyes flickered away from the exuberant face, dropping towards his own hands clasped together, fingering the hem of the sergeant's black uniform. The girl didn't seem like a bad person – actually, she radiated the exact opposite – but…

A loud gasp brought the young man out of his musings.

"You need a change of clothes!" Orihime exclaimed, one hand covering her mouth as her attention was drawn to her patient's clothing – or lack, thereof. "Come on, I'm sure we can find you something to wear…" She placed a hand on the teenager's right shoulder – rather, she _attempted to_ because the moment that the lifted her arm, the ebony-haired teen quickly stepped away, deep green eyes suddenly directed at her, irises wide.

"You don't have to jump away from me," Orihime stated kindly, hand falling to her side, maintaining her distance from the other. "I won't hurt you. I just thought you needed some, well, better clothes… Surely you're not comfortable wearing that–" Her gray eyes fell to the shirt's end, finding it to be too short and she hastily looked the other way. "Oh. Um, well, just follow me, okay? Right this way, please…"

The social worker then headed towards the door that lay behind the receptionist's desk, holding it open for her patient.

Sparing one last look at the deep purple sky outside, the pale man released a sigh before walking over to the waiting woman.

**X – Police Line – Cross at own risk - X**

Neither the sergeant nor the lieutenant spoke a word as they raked through the house for evidence.

The cut ropes have been sealed into a ziplock plastic and so far that's all that they've got. There was nothing else. Nothing. As they've seen before, the kitchen was empty, and even after a thorough search, their situation was still the same; the living room had nothing of relevance, the bedroom was furnished but appeared to be untouched (not one crease on the bed sheets!), and the bathroom was completely empty save for the functioning toilet and water pipes. It was as if the whole house was a prison for the young guy they've recently rescued.

'It probably was,' Grimmjow couldn't help thinking to himself as he finally slipped off the rubber gloves from his hands. Rolling the material into a ball, Grimmjow pocketed the gloves and pulled out his cellphone from the other pocket. It was already five in the morning and, looking outside the front door, he found the velvet sky starting to blotch with lighter hues.

Approaching footsteps noted him of the blonde's arrival. He didn't even need to ask if the sergeant found anything, it was already said with the deep sigh that came with the footfalls.

"So what now, Grimm?" Yylfordt asked, stepping into his superior's line of view, leaning back against the other side of the doorframe.

"We look into the owner of this house," Grimmjow said, hardened eyes staring at their parked mobile.

Yylfordt allowed himself to smile. "Eh, why not? Although I must repeat myself, Grimm… you really are getting worked up with this case…"

Azure eyes turned towards the sergeant, confusion swimming in the blue orbs.

"Are you interested in the kid?"

A hard frown formed on Grimmjow's face, "The hell of a question is that, Forte?"

The blonde officer merely shrugged, chocolate brown eyes meeting the azure pair of the taller man. "He seems pretty attached to you, bro…"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his spiky hair. "He's probably just scared out of his wits, wouldn't be surprised if some shrink diagnosed him with some trauma or another…"

A hum was Yylfordt's reply as they stepped out of the house and closed the door, traveling down the rocky pathway and locking the gate behind them as they reached the police vehicle.

"Any idea where's the main office of Gran Rey Subdivision?" the sergeant asks as he unlocks the car.

**X – Police Line – Cross at own risk - X**

"Now don't you look better?"

Forest green eyes gaze downwards at himself; A gray-striped long-sleeved t-shirt, acid wash jeans that were one size too big and a pair of well-worn sneakers took their rightful places on his frame.

He was inside a plainly furnished bedroom, one that contained nothing more than a double-decked bed, a table and a chair. He was facing the auburn-haired social worker from within the open door as the woman stood with a small tray of food outside, waiting to be let in.

"May I come in? I've bought you a small snack from the kitchen," Orihime said, slightly raising the tray carrying a bottle of water and a sandwich that she held with both hands.

The unspeaking teen backed away, heading over to the bottom bunk of the bed and paying little notice to the gray-eyed woman as he turned his attention to folding the black police uniform.

"Breakfast is at 7:30 am so I thought it'd be best if you didn't get stuffed before then," Orihime explained as she placed down the tray onto the wooden table, clasping her hands together as she turned to her new patient only to find that he wasn't even looking at her - busy as he was in his task. "Um…"

Deep green irises finally looked up at the woman from the corner of the pale teen's eyes as he finished folding the shirt.

"Did you hear what I just said…?" Orihime asks.

The young man gives her a nod.

"Oh… Well," the auburn-haired woman fixes her smile, "After you eat, you should get some rest, okay? I'll just wake you up when it's time for breakfast."

The ebony-haired teen nods once again.

"And, um, I think we'll have the doctor around today…" the sprightly social worker muses, "It's Saturday already, huh? So he'll probably come around by nine… Okay." Orihime sets her ashen gray eyes towards the unresponsive teen, "After breakfast you could maybe socialize with our other ward-" Being at the receiving end of one of the blankest stares, Orihime hastily corrected herself. "Or you could go back to your room…? Then at nine I'll have you meet up with our doctor, don't worry he's really kind. He does this job for no charge at all you know… I'm sure Dr. Cifer can get you fixed up in a jiffy! Right, well, I'd better get back to the reception area, can't leave it vacated for too long, you know… Bye for now."

Finding that the teen's attention had fallen away from her again, Orihime only sighed before going out of the room. She didn't even notice how the passive pale face had turned into one of pure fright.

With the slamming of the door, the green-eyed teen allowed himself to fall on top of the mattress. Eyes scrunched up and lips clamped shut, pale hands grab at the sergeant's neatly folded uniform, pulling it against his chest as he curls up into himself.

_Doctor Cifer… of all people… god **damn** it… That bastard and his public image…_

**X – Police Line – Cross at own risk - X**

"What do you mean we have to wait until working hours?" Grimmjow asks, raising his voice as one fist pounds on the rickety table, momentarily unsettling the white mug of coffee set upon it.

"I am very sorry sir, but the list of house owners is confidential and–" A pudgy guard attempted to reply.

"What part of 'we-found-an-abused-kid-imprisoned-in-one-of-the-houses' do you not understand, man?" the lieutenant barked, looming over the sandy-haired man behind the table. "We're trying to solve a frigging case, alright? And we need to know who–"

"Sir!" The bespectacled blonde slammed his own two hands on the table, finally having enough. "I understand that the list is important for your purpose but as of now, the one in charge of that section is not around. She clocks in at 8 a.m. so if you please, officer, do come back at the due time."

The aqua-haired lieutenant clenched his teeth before turning away from the night watchman exhaling a harsh breath through his nose.

"Blood pressure, Grimm," Yylfordt casually reminded his superior as the man stomped past him. "So I suppose we're headed back to the station?" He received a mere grunt in response. Shaking his head, Sergeant Granz easily slid both his hands into the pockets of his pants as he went after the irate officer. So this is what happens when Grimmjow is cut off from an assignment for too long… The chocolate-eyed blonde let out a small whistle. Man, what a stressful day this is starting out to be…

**- Chapter three, over and out! -**

**A/N: **Okay, BREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAATHE. D: Oh college days, here you are again… School has already crept up on me and with my 8:30 – 5:30 class schedule there's little - rather, NO time to write… Plus Saturday classes, too – Oh noes~!

Anyway, what do you guys think of tight-lipped!Ulquiorra? :3

And a question: how do police working hours work? Another wording would be, how long do police officers stay in office? Is it like the normal 8-hour a day, 5 days a week shift-thing or… I dunno… Help please? :D

Oh, and hallo thar Orihime-chan~! And I must say that Tensa Zangetsu-san looks… nice. ;) Shirosaki… errr, not so much now… :| -themulletawheck-

…

On a completely unrelated note: **OMG KUROSHITSUJI SEASON 2!** xD **AND HETALIA'S DUB PREVIEW IS OUT**!

Okay, I am feeling the love for writing again, so please, college, empathize with me a little here.


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